Positively Phototactic
by Rubico
Summary: Moths are morbidly attracted to light. Sometimes it's moonlight, sometimes it's fire. They never find out until it's too late, however, not until they feel the agony of the flames licking their wings.


**Disclaimer**: Yes, yes. We've all heard it before. I own nothing. Not the characters anyway. Oh yes. PM me if you find any technical mistakes.

Positively Phototactic

_Oh lovelorn heart, give o'er—_

_Cease thy vain dreams of beauty's warmth—forget_

_The face thou longest for. - Meleager_

* * *

She doesn't know how it happened to this day. Or when. She just remembers hating him passionately. Of course, this was before the war; before Hogwarts was torn by war. The Headmistress welcomed all the students back; even the seventh years. The First Year class was twice its normal size and the other years were obligated to repeat in order to make up for all the extremely useful 'learning' they did the previous year. This First of September felt different; it was her first year without the burden of worrying about the Dark Lord.

She was surprised, no questions about that. Why they let the bouncing ferret in the school was a complete mystery. After all, he and his worthless family were the main cause of their beloved Headmaster's death. She made her way into the prefect's compartment and there he was, in all his golden glory. She didn't fail to notice his resigned expression or the embarrassingly visible black eye he was sporting. He lifted his head and saw her but said nothing of it and returned to his book.

"What? No snide remarks, Malfoy? Or did you get a taste of your own medicine?"

"Weasley, please. I already have a handful to worry about. Your attitudes are the last thing I need." He gestured to his black eye.

"Merlin. Did you get it from those snakes you call friends?"

"Snakes, yes. Not sure about 'friends'." She swore he smiled a little.

It was then Ernie Macmillan and Hermione Granger, respectively Head Boy and Girl decided to address the prefects. Ginny rolled her eyes and made herself comfortable on the bench across from Draco while Hermione outlined the prefects' duties. Perhaps an unspoken truce had passed between the weasel and the ferret, for neither thought it necessary to be hostile any longer. That, however, did not mean they had to be friends, for they ignored each other for the longest time.

* * *

After the war, Ginny noticed, Draco had become more reserved, speaking only when spoken to. His answers were brief and concise, as though to avoid unnecessary communication. To look at this in context, though, he had little friends. He almost always hung around Blaise Zabini, but even their friendship was strained. Other than Zabini, only the Greengrass sisters bothered to speak to him at all. His remaining ex-henchman seemed lost without Draco's guidance, but the latter no longer cared for a bodyguard and the ever flirtatious Pansy Parkinson (Ginny would never admit it, but Parkinson was beautiful in her own right) chose to fawn over Cormac McLaggen instead; never mind that he was a Gryffindor.

In the mornings he ate breakfast in his solitude, leaving before everyone else for the willow beside the lake. In the afternoons he would either be studying quietly in the library or flying in the evening breeze. Ginny could not explain why she took such an interest in him. After all, Draco never noticed her unless it was to taunt her about her school girl crush on Harry.

One evening, compelled by a strange urge to feel the wind's caress, she made her way onto the grounds and started to read. Sure enough, there he was, reveling in his airborne freedom. Involuntarily, her eyes followed his every move. She watched him do a wronski feint, a dive, a spin and countless other maneuvers; his moves were quite impressive- _but not enough to beat Harry_, she thought to herself. He flew with such grace and poise, creating a sharp contrast with Harry's impulsive and reckless style; his grey eyes were relaxed and his soft blond hair swayed slightly by the wind's nudge. _How ironic_, she inwardly remarked in retrospect. Of all the things she could have remembered, it was this mundane, unimportant encounter beside the lake. But something changed, that's for sure. For the first time, it occurred to her that he's beautiful.

* * *

It was beyond her comprehension what happened to her that day. She made her way the next evening to the lake just to see him again. And this would go on for a week before he finally noticed her.

"Weasley." A voice called from ten feet above her.

"I… What?" She stuttered, startled.

"Is there some other explanation as to why you watch me fly everyday or must I conclude that you're contemplating how best to force me off my broom?" He inquired with the ghost of a smirk.

"I actually came here to study, but the idea of pushing you to your doom might not be so repulsive after all." She retaliated with renewed confidence and a hint of amusement in her voice. So he knew she was there all along and presumed to ignore her. Bloody prat. He dismounted his broom and walked towards her confidently.

"Ah. So it would be valid to assume that your intent was to study me, because I'm bloody amazing." He said smugly.

"Actually, I was doing my Potions essay before you so rudely interrupted me."

"Oh? So that's why you haven't written a word on your parchment? Or does that explain the fact that your book's upside down?" She knew he'd stumped her, and he knew it. His widening expression of pure smugness said it all.

"Whatever, Malfoy. I was just leaving." She bit back before gathering her belongings, ears and cheeks reddening scandalously.

"Hey, you don't have to leave, Weasley. I'm not done basking in my…" She no longer heard him as she rounded the corner to the staircase that led to the Gryffindor Tower.

"_Prudence_." She muttered to the Fat Lady before the portrait swung open to admit her. She had better start on her essay, because it was late and she hadn't exactly done much during her 'study' session. It wasn't long before Hermione cornered her.

"Show me your essay and I'll correct it." She offered, remembering her deal with Ginny two weeks before.

"Erm… I actually didn't start on it yet." Ginny admitted sheepishly.

"All right. Your Charms homework then."

"I didn't start on that one either."

"Merlin, Ginny! They're due tomorrow! Never mind that. What _did_ you do in the entirety of the afternoon spent outside studying?" Hermione looked incredulous, not that Ginny blamed her. The situation was, after all, ridiculous. Ginny did not feel the need to justify herself though, and her reason would be unacceptable anyway. Everyone knew who fly outside every evening, or at least, anyone who cared to notice. Ginny wouldn't put it pass Hermione to put two and two together, and by the looks of it, she did.

"It's him, isn't it?" She asked rhetorically.

"Him? No! There's nothing between us!"

"Oh, so you and Harry had been snogging by the lake and "nothing's between you"? How can you let something as trivial as that interfere with your schooling?"

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. Obviously, they were talking about two different boys.

"I heard my name?" Harry walked into the common room with a grin plastered on his handsome face.

"Harry- If you want to do… Whatever it is that you do with Ginny, at least make sure she's done her homework." Hermione chastised.

"Me? What? No. I didn't see her this afternoon." Harry said sincerely. _Uh oh_.

"Please, Hermione, I've got to get started on my essay, and I'd prefer to do it alone, no offense." Ginny quipped before stalking away. The look on Hermione's face clearly said '_This isn't over'._

* * *

Malfoy was avoiding her like a plague. She'd see him during classes (which only consisted of Advanced Potions). Even though she stopped studying beside the lake, she still stole frequent glances to the grounds Malfoy's form used to shadow. He'd stopped going there too.

She was on time, but only just. By the time she'd gotten to class, Slughorn was ready to begin his lecture. She found an empty seat in the front row and took out her school things. The first row was usually vacated (save for Hermione and an unwilling Harry, of course) because those who plan to sleep through potions class whenever possible (which was most of the class) did not want to be right under Slughorn's nose.

Because it was only the beginning of the year, the potions assigned to them were all quite simple and did not require much thinking. Little did they know, it all would change. For now, Ginny watched with a bored expression as her concoction bubbled. It turned a brilliant shade of azure after adding mermaids' scales to the solution (and wizards wonder why most intelligent magical creatures loath them), at which time Slughorn passed by her and awarded ten points to Gryffindor for her excellent work. Hermione's was the best, but with extra effort, Ginny could give her a run for her money.

"I swear followed the instructions perfectly! But no! Old sluggy gave me a P for today's assignment!" Jade complained loudly in their dormitory.

"Well, look on the bright side-" Ginny began.

"There _is_ no bright side unless Harley learns to _read the bloody instructions_, Weasley." Quipped their resident 'Hermione Granger', Sophia Cranmer.

"Look, no one asked you." Ginny spat. Cranmer rolled her eyes and retreated into her own bed.

"Oh, did you notice? Malfoy was staring at you during Potions." Jade added as an afterthought. Ginny did not know why that brought her contentment, but she tried to hide it all the same.

"Really? I wasn't aware that the back of my head could be remotely interesting." She tried to sound impassive, but her pitch betrayed her.

"D'you think he might fancy you?" Jade wondered, only semi-conscious.

"_Staring_ aren't tell-tale signs, Jade." Ginny wondered why she felt so elated at the news. The light snoring coming from Jade's general direction told Ginny that she could use some rest, too. She smiled against her pillow all the while mentally slapping herself for being so happy, and clutched her blankets pretending she was holding someone with soft, blond hair.

* * *

She dreaded the day; she despaired the fact that she was having nocturnal fantasies about him, his piercing grey eyes and porcelain skin. She hated that she was looking forward to seeing him and that she was paying him way more attention than he would ever pay her. _He probably forgot I even existed_, she thought bitterly. She stomped down the halls to the Potions so angrily that she failed to notice a well-camouflaged indent in the stone corridor.

"_Bloody hell!"_ She swore as the contents in her arms spilled over; about a dozen parchments and with the misfortunate that would embarrass someone on badly brewed Felix Felicis, a bottle of ink. It was then she felt another presence behind her. Whoever it was, he or she was certainly caught off guard. She spun to find the object of her fantasies gazing at her uncertainly, as though contemplating whether to flee for his life.

And then there was silence as her heart skipped a beat.

"Well?" She demanded expectantly, gesturing towards the mess on the floor. He remained dazed for another second, then, it seemed that he realized his surroundings. Without a word, he gathered some of her parchments into a pile after vanishing the spilled ink on the floor, but it seemed that some of her essays were permanently damaged. He held them out to her, and all she did was stare at him, overcome by awkwardness.

"T-thank you." She managed to stutter before shoving the parchments in her bag and turning away.

"No problem." He sounded fidgety.

"It seems that we're a minute late for potions. We'd better hurry." Regaining her composure, she hurried away without a second glance.

She shoved the doors to the dungeons open and was first greeted by an irritated Slughorn (presumably at being interrupted mid-sentence) and a disapproving frown from Hermione.

"Five points from Slytherin and Gryffindor for lateness. Sit yourself down beside each other; the others have already paired off." Slughorn said tersely. Sharing an identical grimace, both took seats in the front row.

"This assignment would require the two of you to brew an extremely difficult potion; most of the choices range from intermediate to advanced NEWT-level potion. All of them, if brewed correctly, take less than three weeks, therefore the partnership would last a month, the extra week would be given for a written conclusion of this project."

Draco never liked Slughorn; he had never shown him any favors as the Slytherin head of house. In fact, the beer-bellied professor seemed to hold a certain level of disdain towards him. Ginny disliked him for different reasons. He was far too superficial and sometimes his antics are overbearing. This would be one of the times.

"Excellent choice! A challenge would be good for such esteemed students like you." Slughorn bellowed when he saw their choice of potion. Two minutes later, he was having a quiet conversation with Hermione. Later, it was revealed that Hermione took the assignment beyond the course requirements, much to the horror of Ron.

"Right." Draco and Ginny said at the same time. They looked at each other, each beginning to blush, and then Ginny forced a chuckle.

"Well, that was… Something." She finished lamely. "We should look through the list of ingredients." And so they poured over the instructions for the better part of thirty minutes.

"… _Intestines of Newts?!_ These things look like sausages. As a second thought, I never understood how Newts reproduce." He was beside himself with mirth.

"Can we not… dwell on that?"

"Oh, no. In fact, we have _all day_ to dwell on that. There's half an hour left of this lesson, and Merlin knows we aren't starting today." He smirked, and she countered with one of her own.

"Right. Because you were so _interested-_" She proceeded to explain.

"I was bloody joking, Weasley. Don't be perverted."

"You were the one who brought it up, and now _I'm_ perverted?" She asked, incredulous. Unnoticed by both, their classmates were eyeing them strangely.

"Well, I was hoping you'd have enough brains to recognize a joke. I wouldn't want the climax of my life be cut short by the tainting of my innocent mind."

"… _climax_?" Ginny's imagination soared to new heights as her face twisted into an expression of disgust.

"And yes, to answer your question, you _are_ perverted."

"Not anymore than you are. _Innocence _and your name should never appear in one breath."

"Nor yours, in five …"

* * *

Everything in her life was right yet so wrong at the same time. She was supposed to hate this bloke, not fantasize about him. The elation is overwhelming and she felt as though she was at the top of the world. For the life of her she couldn't figure out why, but she stopped trying. She hadn't felt this giddy in years, not since Tom Riddle called her beautiful. She reached the Gryffindor table within five minutes after the last class ended and carefully rearranged her smile into an indifferent, neutral expression. Then, remembering her situation, her expression morphed into a scowl. Why does it have to be like that? Things were so much simpler when she'd set her eyes on someone _appropriate_ instead, like Harry.

"Why so blue?" Jade asked curiously.

"Because I damn well _screwed up_. It wasn't supposed to happen this way!" Ginny angrily stabbed her steak.

"So you've come to the conclusion that the potion you chose is indeed too hard to brew?" Jade supplied.

"No. An even bigger problem with that assignment."

"So it's the person you're doing it with? I can see why. He had been nothing but a prick for years."

"Yes. It's about him. But not in the way you'd think." Ginny glared at her foot as though they had insulted her. "I'll tell you before bed. I'm going to bloody _explode_." She complained. Just then, a certain blond walked in with his Italian friend. That did nothing to alleviate her mood; if anything, his arrival worsened it. She lifted her head to catch Zabini indicating her general direction with a curt gesture and looked as his friend in amusement. Malfoy looked just as sullen as she, perhaps a little red as well. He punched Zabini lightly on the arm, blushed a little and turned away hastily. Zabini's smirk only grew as he winked at Ginny before helping himself to the food.

Ginny was baffled by what she had seen, but she understood the implications, as a certain Miss Harley was quick to point out.

"What more do you need? That's concrete proof right there."

Ginny chose not to reply.

* * *

She found herself anticipating Potions more and more, and every class they'd shower each other with jokes and mock insults – but not this one. He became awkward around her for no conceivable reason (although it might have something to do with yesterday's dinner table incident) and when he's awkward, she would be too. The class passed without much talking done by either party and both seemed to be avoiding unnecessary interaction. _Back to square one_, Ginny inwardly sighed. Had she been any other girl, Draco would have asked her out already. _So what's so different about me?!_ She thought in frustration. _Oh right. I'm a bloodtraitor._ She was getting angry despite herself.

"Pass me the ingredients… These aren't uniformly cut!"

"Oh, I didn't realize they had to be _equally sized_ since you seem so intent on ignoring me all day. What happened to "I'll read the instructions, you'll do the preparations"?" She retorted, feeling more than a little wounded that he decided to brush her aside for the entirety of this class.

"It is more or less a rule of thumb for all ingredients to be the same size, if you haven't noticed."

"And I've noticed that it's written in the instructions too. Didn't see it fit to read _that_ – she jerked her finger at the book- to me, did you?" She finished cutting a new set of the same ingredients.

"Here're your precious ingredients. Next time you want to work with me, find a word or two to say." With that, she ignored him for the rest of the class while Draco's eyes widened in confusion.

She had no idea why she was so angry that he didn't see it fit to communicate more than the bare minimum with her, and decided that she didn't want to know. After all, she shouldn't have been mooning for his attention in the first place. Now that he wouldn't give it, it's perfect, isn't it?

"Well, _someone_ got off the wrong foot today. You're certainly moody." Hermione commented after class.

"Don't ask." Ginny muttered, although she was not very angry anymore. "Malfoy friggin' made a scene just because I didn't cut the ingredients right!" She found herself telling Hermione anyway.

"You two are friends now, aren't you?"

"Friends? –she hesitated- We could be called that, I suppose. Until this morning, we were. Then he decided to be a prick and ignore me for the whole of Potions."

Hermione chuckled. "There's nothing constant about Malfoy, you should know that. One day he proposed truce to me, the next day he calls Ron 'Weasel'."

"Well, _I_ certainly don't want to be stuck talking about Malfoy all day. So. You and my brother."

"What? He and I didn't snog in a broom closet last night!" Hermione responded immediately to the rumor circulating around Gryffindor Tower. She turned beat red.

"Funny. I never mentioned you did." Pleased at herself for successfully diverting the topic, Ginny went back to the tower with a stuttering Hermione. _Everything's back to normal. No Draco, no daydreams; just Hermione and her infatuation with Ronald._

* * *

Two months following the end of the potions assignment, the harsh winter melted into inviting spring. Christmas at the Burrow was, as usual, loud and cosy. It was their first Christmas without Fred, but they tried not to think about that in their attempt to resume life where they had left off. Percy was forgiven very quickly by the rest of the family save for Ron, but even Ginny's stubborn git of a brother showed signs of relenting. Little Teddy Lupin was a big help in making the family move on; young as he was, he seemed to understand what the Weasleys were going through and would morph into amusing forms for their entertainment. Things were still awkward between Ginny and Harry, and it seemed that he hadn't yet worked up his courage to ask her to get back together.

Draco didn't see it fit to continue their half 'friendship' after the assignment and they only spoke when necessary, but rumours flew. It's Hogwarts, after all. With nosy bimbos like Romilda Vane, gossip was just as abundant as idiots around the place. _Isn't she the one who has the hots for Harry? And the love potion? _Ginny remarked mentally. She was surprised to find that it didn't bother her as much as it used to. In fact, she couldn't care less if _Witch Weekly_ printed a scandalously intimate shot of them snogging tomorrow. According to a certain Miss Harley, the news is now spreading that Sophia Cranmer is with child and Cormac McLaggen is the father. _Well, that's old 'news'._ She thought with amusement. More recently, it had been going around that Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy had an affair behind Pansy Parkinson's back; and in some version, Harry. The third piece of gossip would be enough to squeeze the air from her lungs, however.

It was a busy day and the halls are bustling with people when someone that sounded suspiciously like Zabini hollered down the hall:

"Draco fancies _Astoria_!!" A lump rose in her throat as she scanned the crowd for any signs of the blond, but he had already disappeared into a classroom.

She was stunned. No. _Catastrophically _stunned. Everything around her faded away as a million questions raced through her mind. Had she merely imagined everything she thought she saw? Was he leading her on? Is this all an illusion? What if he sees her as nothing but an acquaintance? Did he ever fancy her? Hell, was he doing this so he could laugh to Zabini about it later on? Was he tired of waiting for her to reciprocate? She couldn't concentrate for the rest of the day, staring dazed into space in History of Magic and Charms (much to Flitwick's dismay and at the expense of the Gryffindor lead for the House Cup). Instead of going to dinner that evening, she half staggered onto the ground with her books clutched tightly to her chest. As if by chance, she found her way back to the willow tree beside the lake where it all began.

Tears stung in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. _It was all a lie_. No, no, no. It was a rumor. Nothing but a stupid, malicious rumor, perhaps a courtesy from Miss Greengrass herself. It's not true… _But it is_. Her realistic side bit back. _Everything is real. It's over. It never began. You didn't lose him! He wasn't yours to lose!_ Every stolen glance, every smile, every blush, every frown, every gaze of pure adoration… Lies. _Abomination_. She thought.

"This is all an abomination." She mouthed to herself, only semi-aware that she was doing it. The tears are falling freely now. Oh yes! Tears! Remember them? She hate where she is now. She loves structure, and there she sat, her life spiralling out of control. How _dare_ she lose it like that? He's controlling her yet he doesn't know it. She was bound to him like moths to flames; those petty, naive little insects have hopes that the candle would lead them where they needed to go; that the warmth is inviting and safe. _How can fire be so cold?_ They would wonder in their final moments. It's too late to tell him that she loves him. It's too late to realize that it's true, and she didn't until now. Deception. Trickery. A twisted fantasy. An appealing farce. An… abomination. Is that what her love is? She hugged herself tightly and started to walk back, a million things on her mind. She didn't see a cloaked figure walking towards the willow with his broomstick in tow.

"You left your books." He said simply. She glanced at them dispassionately, gathered them into her arms and turned to leave.

"You're welcome?" He looked at her questioningly, noticing her sullen and resigned expression. When she kept her silence he brushed past her, shrugging. As their arms touched briefly, he thought he heard her utter "abomination" to no one in particular. He was baffled as to why she decided to give him the cold shoulder after their assignment, but it doesn't matter anymore; her behaviour told him, in not so many words, that she wanted to end their friendship.

* * *

_Ginevra Weasley was in a beautiful manor; everyone was in their best attire. She couldn't recognize a lot of people, but it doesn't matter to her. She had the groom. He was standing there, his handsome face set in an expression of pure bliss, his eyes were full of love and adoration as he gazed upon her. Well, damn the holy man. Damn the ceremony. She wanted to kiss him now, to run her fingers through his soft blond hair and feel his hot breath on her face._

"_If there should be any in the audience who contend that the couple should not be wed, speak now or forever keep your peace."_

_Ginny felt herself drift away. She could see him clearly now, him and her. After Draco slid the ring on her fingers, he brushed aside her fair, golden curls and pressed his lips softly to hers. Wild applause sounded in the audience. But she could not move. She could not cry. She could not protest against this hellish match. Now she must forever keep her peace. She watched remorsefully as they were kissing, and kissing and…_

Her eyes snapped open, and the memory clung to her like a leech. The raw pain, the desperation, the resignation, the desolation… All of them broke her emotional barrier like a tidal wave, slamming her resolve to pieces. The first teardrop slid down her face almost unnoticed, then they turned into sobs she could no longer control. A few meters away, a burnt out Jade Harley noticed her friend's distress, leaving her midnight review session forgotten. She opened Ginny's drapes and pulled her friend into a warm embrace.

"What's wrong?" Ginny broke down and confessed everything. Jade had seen it coming, of course, but she didn't know it would end this way. She felt partly responsible for encouraging it. Ginny didn't deserve this; it was something nobody should have to experience. She would make this right; she would make Draco realize what he's missing.

* * *

The collective feeling of nostalgia was so thick it was almost tangible at the Graduation Dance.

"And now, we bid farewell to the Class of 1997 who spent, for the first time in history, eight years in our school. Many of you are war heroes, and may you find peace and happiness in your lives after Hogwarts." Headmistress McGonagall wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and with a wave of her wand, the last event of the year commenced. Ginny stood with Harry in a stunning green dress, but she was not in the mood for any celebrations. Jade had disappeared on her ever since the soon-to-be ex-Head Boy, Ernie Macmillan asked her to dance. _Merlin knows where she is right now_. She thought glumly. Harry, it seemed, did not want to dance either and they headed the punch table together.

Draco was waltzing Astoria when a brunette he recognized as Jade Harley approached them and watched them until the song was over.

"Go dance with Ginny." She said shortly. He was momentarily at loss for words.

"I- What?" He stuttered.

"_Please_." The normally cheerful Harley was not smiling. "It means a lot to her; more than you'd ever care to know." With that, she walked determinedly to the punch table.

"Let me steal Ginny for a bit, Harry." Jade grabbed her wrist and started to pull her towards the dance floor.

"What? No! Jade! Don't do this." Her eyes widened with horror upon seeing her destination.

"You're impossible." Jade gave her a gentle push and suddenly she found herself face to face with the object of her broken fantasies.

He tentatively held out his hand for her to take, and then made to retract it as though unsure. Sensing her hesitation, he moved more assertively and wrapped his arms around her waist in a slow dance. Her hands found their way around his neck and suddenly he was too close for comfort. They swayed slowly to the rhythm but both their breathing was strained and shallow. She could feel the warmth emanating from his body and his breath on her cheeks. Her neck was uncomfortably twisted to the other way. Unlike the other couples, they were not facing each other; she was afraid to meet his faze as she stared at the floor awkwardly, knowing that if she turned, she would find herself in a very sticky situation. It was like a strange dream, being in his arms. It was certainly where she had wanted to be all these months, even if she caught him kissing Astoria in empty classrooms; even if he never spoke to her again. Then, as soon as it happened, it was over. The song seemed to last forever, but forever was not long enough. He let go of her waist quickly and walked away. She stood alone once more, feeling colder than ever. Hope left with each of his retreating footsteps, her desolate eyes trailed his shadow. Then he was gone. Lost in the crowd. Lost to her. Forever. But forever is too long.

* * *

Ginevra Weasley was in a beautiful manor; everyone was in their best attire. She couldn't recognize a lot of people, but it doesn't matter to her. He didn't recognize her, so what difference did it make if anyone recognized her? She had the groom. He was standing there, his handsome face set in an expression of pure bliss, his eyes were full of love and adoration as he gazed upon her. Well, damn reality. Damn the truth. She wanted to kiss him now, to run her fingers through his soft blond hair and feel his hot breath on her face. But now is too late; because it wasn't at Ginevra he was smiling.

"If there should be any in the audience who contend that the couple should not be wed, speak now or forever keep your peace."

Ginny felt her eyes water; she could see him clearly now –"I do." With love and promise in his voice-, him and her –"I do." With an expression of joy on her beautiful features-. After Draco slid the ring on her finger, he brushed aside her fair, golden curls and pressed his lips softly to hers. Wild applause sounded in the audience. But Ginevra could not move. She could not cry. She could not object, now she must forever keep her peace.

She could only walk away.

* * *

**Note:** As you all can see now, I'm _negatively romantatic_. Oops. That didn't work. Well, to translate my previous statement into coherent English, I'm horrible with anything remotely emotional, so do spare me if the attempt at teenage angst didn't work as intended. Well, positively phototactic, or positive phototaxis, is why a moth does what a moth does (namely, throw itself into the candle). I think you get the connection I'm trying to make. This is my first try at romance, by the way. Don't know if it'll happen again, but I figured if I get too many negative responses, maybe I should pack up and move to... Lighter, less emotional genres like adventure ;) Oh well. I don't write often, so what the hell. For those confused with my writing, the second wedding scene _is real. _This story goes with canon. She marries Harry in the end. Whether she feels anything for him, I'll leave that to your imagination. Draco marries Astoria and has little Scorpius. So now that you're here, reading this note and all (or at least, I hope you've gotten far enough to read this note), please leave a review. I want an idea as to where to go next. Such as: Should I write Draco's side of the story? Should I give up writing all together? You know. The usual stuff.


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